


Unspoken Confessions

by 3amDebs



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Caring John Winchester, Childhood Memories, Flashbacks, Gen, John apologizes, My First Fanfic, My First Work in This Fandom, POV John Winchester, Protective John Winchester, Winchester Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-27
Updated: 2016-09-27
Packaged: 2018-08-18 04:31:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8149193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3amDebs/pseuds/3amDebs
Summary: What if, after escaping from hell, John has always been around his boys? This is a short drabble from John's perspective. I've always felt that he's a very misunderstood character. i wrote this loooong back when I was a kid. Please be kind!I suck at summaries.





	

Dean was drunk in a bar for the third night in a row. This was one of those bars which boasted a location of being in the blind spot of mankind. One of those wooden shacks which sheltered only those few men who were tired of the 'Hello sir what a lovely day' kinda crap. Tired of this least favourite life and mundane job. But Dean, was not drinking 'cause he couldn't complain. Dean was drinking to remember the good ol' times. Those happy times when ganking some ghosts and Wendigos and vampires was their only headache. When searching for their Dad was the only thing that worried them. Sometimes he looks at Sam while he's busy doing research on some supernatural bitch and remembers that 14 year old Sam who researched to finish his school assignments and projects. Dean was looking around the bar when he came across a photo of two young boys in a garden, on the counter wall. Must be boys of the bartender. The beer along with this hour of the night threw him back in time when Sam was a chubby little kid. As of Dean, he doesn't remember being a cute little kid. In fact, he was never a kid. One memory rose from the ashes and began to play in front of Dean's drunk green eyes.

Dean was busy sharpening his knife, which was a birthday present from his dad, when Sam came running into his room. Eyes red from crying, lips trembling suggesting some more possible saltwater rain on the cheeks.

Dean quickly hid the knife under his pillow.

"What's wrong Sammy?"

"De, I lost dad's pen"

"Again? Sammy, this is the second time in a week."

"But De, I saw a...."

"Yes yes you saw a bug and thought it would be best if you used dad's pen like a spear, right?"

Sam said nothing but lips were forming a pout to let out some more tears.

Dean picked up Sam in his arms.

"Hey hey, no need to cry okay? We'll find it. C'mon. Show me where you dropped it"

Sam was still not satisfied.

"And if we don't find it?"

"We'll replace it with a replica and dad will never know."

This made Same smile genuinely. His brown puppy dog eyes were sparkling with relief.

So they were searching for it and in the middle of the job, Sam found something more interesting.

"Ooh a butterfly!" Sam walked curiously towards the insect but didn't forget to look at Dean for permission.

"Go on Sammy. I'll find it"

At last, they didn't find it. Dean replaced it with a new one. When John picked it up to write his journal, he could tell the difference immediately.

"Dean, did you touch my pen?"

"Yeah, dad I kinda lost it. How could you tell?"

"Son, mine had a half used refill. This has a new one. So you lost it?"

"Yeah dad..." Dean was rubbing his neck while replying. John knew very well what happened. He had seen Sam do it before. So, all he did was pull Dean closer, ruffle his hair and say, "Alright son. A little change ain't harmful to anyone!. Go on then."

Dean had left the room with a sigh of relief.

His chain of thoughts was broken by the voice of the bartender. He was a heavy old man. "It's 2:30 son. I would call it a night"

"I wouldn't call this day, you know."

Both shared a laugh and Dean pushed the 30$ bill on the counter top.

"Drive safe son"

"Yeah. Thanks Ernie"

The Impala made its way towards the motel where Sam was waiting for him. They're on a vampire case in Idaho and they will solve it.

How do I know? How do I even know so much about this particular hunter?

Because I'm their dad. I'm John Winchester. I'm always around but they can't see me. I've tried to make myself heard or visible but it didn't work. I have always been there. Silently helping my sons however I can, whenever I can. Be it turning some pages to give them the right address or some occasional moving of weapons towards them while fighting supernatural. I'm very careful all the time but Sam sometimes senses it. Demon blood isn't the source of all his capabilities you know.

The next question, for me, would be how long? How long have I been around? I've been here since 2008 when I climbed out of hell 'cause the gates were opened. For a brief time they got to see me, to hear me and that's the memory I must live on with. I've seen Sam struggle through a year to save his brother. I've seen Dean struggle to keep a I-don't-care face till he couldn't. Even when he was bound for hell, his concern was Sam. How he would cope after he's gone? How he would manage without him. No matter how much Sam's age increases, he will always be a kid for Dean. I've seen Dean become more of Sam's dad than I ever could. I've seen him become Sam's mom which he never had. Yes, I've seen Sam drink demon blood and in bed with Ruby. That was wrong and sinful and a punishable offense rather than a mistake but I do know why he did it. Even after knowing about the Apocalypse his priorities didn't quite change. It was always to kill Lilith, the bitch responsible for snatching away that one soul which Sam loved blindly. I've seen my boys fight for each other and against each other over the time but the fact remains unchanged that they will always come back to each other. I'm proud of my boys.

A few of my misconceptions were broken, one of them being about the angels. I thought they didn't exist and I also thought they were the good guys, our heavenly guardian. Well, angels do exist and apparently they're humongous dicks! But not all of them. Castiel is a good guy. Although he lost his way some time back, he's the best buddy Dean will ever have. No worries Cas. Earth has a habit of playing with minds, be it humans or angels.

After Bobby died, I wanted to be there for my sons. Dean's face was clearly expressing the pain he was in. But Sammy, he's.....he's...so unreadable at times. He is strong, silent, nerd as Dean calls him, the more logical of them but he's so alone at times. For a very long time he felt isolated and unwanted. He thought Bobby didn't love him the way he loved Dean and he accepted it! He thought he deserved it. My boy was so silent even his anguish couldn't find his way out. I wish I could be there for him. Just tell him on his face that he is my pride. But I wasn't allowed to that.

What not have I seen. I've seen Dean getting ripped to shreds by hellhounds , I've seen Sam emptying and breaking whiskey bottles and wanting to end it. Yes, he tried that. Before Ruby arrived he did try that. I've seen Dean looking at happy families on roads and increasing the volume of the cassette player of the Impala. I've seen Sam jump into hell. I've seen Soulless Sam hurting Dean. I've seen a very broken Sam after his wall broke down. I've seen Sam two steps closer to happiness with Amelia and then leave it all behind to be with his brother. I've seen him dying to close the Gates of Hell. And Dean? I've seen him dying a little bit every day when Sam was in hell or when Sam was doing the trials. I've felt every molecule of his earthly existence trying to take whatever was hurting his little Sammy. And on top of all I've seen Dean becoming what he hated the most, a demon. All these I've watched silently without being able to move a finger to help my sons. I've continued seeing until no tears were left in this stained soul.

I heard that God is a father. He created this earth and that the humans are his children. All I ask is how do see your children suffer so quietly? Doesn't it hurt when someone is diseased or when one child kills the other? If you're a father too why don't you understand me? Why have you kept my lingering smoke of a bruised soul on Earth? To see my children die and die again in every possible way? Why don't I get to talk with my sons, to touch them, to embrace them once more? Why do I still have these forsaken eyes to see suffering? Was a 100 years in Hell not enough God?

 

Please forgive me Dean for I could do nothing. Please forgive me Sam for I could do nothing. If you ever hear the resonance of my existence you will hear only those words which I'm saying and will say till the end of days, "I tried Dean. I tried Sammy. I really tried till there was nothing left......"


End file.
